


The Shop Brat Life-  Scott

by Princesszellie



Series: The Shop Brat Life [14]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Carshop!Au, Family time, Gen, Teen!Chuck, mechanic!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 20:11:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2081580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princesszellie/pseuds/Princesszellie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chuck spends quality time with his Uncle OR- This is a do it yourself disaster....</p><p>I love writing Scott Hansen....</p><p>Part 14/? of the Shop Brat Life series of one shots based on my life as the boss's kid at a large car dealership.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Shop Brat Life-  Scott

Scott wiped the sweat off is brow with the greasy rag and leaned on the grill of the truck. It was getting hot even parked under the trees in the front yard. It sucked today was his only day off this week, and it was of course going to be the hottest on record for the year.

He sighed and turned back to look down into the cavernous hole that contained the heart of his trusty ride. He still couldn’t figure out if it was the drive train belt or the head gasket that was squealing like a stuck pig. He could rule out the transmission, which had just recently been serviced thanks to his nephew’s abuse, so he was at a loss. It was okay though Scott Hansen enjoyed a good challenge now and then. He’d figure it out-eventually; even if he had to take the whole damn thing apart bolt by bolt and put it back together again. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Scott was a hands on kind of guy, not like his brother who knew how to do the work himself but preferred not to get his hands dirty. “I’ve got people to do that,” Herc would always say. Then Chuck would quip that the Becket’s didn’t count as people and then Scott would just tune the two of them out.

It certainly was useful having a brother in the auto business, at times like these he could just call him up and get whatever parts he needed at a moment’s notice. And if he was lucky it even came with free delivery.

He looked up and down the dusty road smiling to himself. Ah, there were his parts now. Even at over a mile he could hear Striker Eureka coming. Between the dull roar of the rotting out muffler and the souped up sound system it was hard to ignore the racket coming down the hill. One of these days that kid would just shake that car apart.

A minute later Striker came sailing over the crest of the hill and came swooping in at jet fighter speeds. Chuck pulled up right next to where he was working and hopped out, Max tumbling out behind him. “Hey Uncle Scott,” he greeted pulling his hat down to shield his face from the intense sun.

“Hey darlin’” Scott answered. Chuck rolled his eyes at the endearment. “You got everything?”

“Of course.” Chuck snorted opening Striker’s cavernous trunk, “Dad even sent some stuff extra. He took a guess at what else it could be.”

Typical Herc overbearing older brother bullshit. Scott frowned a little. Sometimes it still pissed him off when Herc decided that his baby bro couldn’t figure stuff out on his own- even as a grown ass man. Whatever, he meant well anyway.

Chuck and Scott unloaded and carried the parts closer to the truck while Max wandered off to explore the rodent population of Scott’s yard. “I’m glad you’re here, if it turns out to be the damn belt I’ll need your smaller hands.”

Chuck glanced down at his hands with their thin fingers, covered in the usual cuts and scratches. The busted knuckles on his right hand were fresh and still tender, but he jammed that hand in his pocket before Scott could get a good look at them. “I don’t have anywhere to be.” He said nonchalantly.

“Good.” Scott smiled. He really did enjoy having his nephew around, all the benefits of having a kid but none of the expenses and grey hairs. And Charlie caused a lot of both.

Charlie listened as Scott ran him through the symptoms and what he had tried so far, cocked his head when the engine was started and the high pitched shrieking began. “That’s super attractive….”

“Says the kid purposefully driving around with a rotted out muffler. I flew supersonic jets that made less noise then Striker.” Scott gave him the look. Chuck gave it right back. They stood like that until under silent mutual agreement they both made a move to cut the engine and stop the god-awful banshee noise.

“I think it’s the timing chain.” Chuck leaned against the fender and watched his fat bulldog attempt to chase a squirrel.

Scott froze mid grab for a wrench. No…It couldn’t be that….Could it?... “I dunno….”

Chuck made a very Herc-like gesture of ‘you asked me so there it is’, which was just as infuriating from a 16 year old. They settled in to working, well Scott worked and talked away not realizing for several minutes that his nephew was being strangely quiet.

The boy was leaning on edge of the fender staring down fixedly at the windshield wiper fluid intake cap. It wasn’t like Charlie to be so introverted, especially when working on a car; you usually couldn’t get him to stop asking questions or shut up in general. Scott was a little concerned. “You okay buddy?” he finally asked.  
  
“Huh?” Chuck realized that this time Scott asked him something specific instead of just talking at him. “Oh…yeah I’m fine….” It was not at convincing and he knew it. Fuck. He kept his head down.

“You wanna talk about it?” Uncle Scott peered into his face trying to get a read, but it was impossible due to the pulled down cap and the aviators.

“No…..” Chuck turned his face away, realizing that answer wasn’t going to satisfy his Uncle. He wasn’t going to be able to hide for much longer.

Scott had a sinking feeling now, “Can you hand me the 5/8ths?” he asked motioning like he was going to go back to work but putting himself into position to knock the hat off Charlie’s head as he bent down for the wrench.

“Hey!” Chuck squawked and he glared through the dark mirrored lenses.

“Take those off too. Now Chuck.” Scott crossed his arms and did his best impression of his brother. It must have been fairly convincing because slowly and carefully the boy removed the shades. Scott whistled softly, “Dear god Charlie,”

Chuck’s left eye was black as midnight and swollen completely shut. Chuck avoided his gaze with his good eye and pouted his definitely swollen lip.

“What did you do?”

A shrug. “Nothin’,”

“Dude, that is a hell of a lot of nothing.” Scott tilted his face up, “Charlie….”

Chuck tried to pull away, “I got into a fight okay? Some asshole jumped me after practice today. I didn’t start it but I fucking finished it!” There was a hint of pride in there.

His Uncle sighed and rolled his eyes, “Really Chuck? Did any adults see you?” The kid might be in deeper shit than he realized.

“No. No one saw…..” he looked up at Scott in what might be panic. “Please don’t tell Dad!”

Oh there it was; the _real_ motivation behind the hiding. Yeah he had a damn good reason to worry about Herc’s reaction…but…not his kid, not his place. “Come on, let’s get something cold on that, see if we can’t do some damage control.” He needed a break anyway.

The trio headed into the house where Scott grabbed himself a beer and Charlie a bag of frozen peas. He plopped down onto the couch and Chuck sat down carefully next to him, clearly nursing some other achy spots. They sat in silence for a while, Chuck resting his head on Scott’s shoulder and holding the peas over his face.

“Figured out what you’re gonna tell Dad?” Scott finally broke the silence, stroking the hair out of Chuck’s good eye.

Chuck sighed, “I guess I’ll say I had a collision in practice….or…I could tell him you did it.” He smirked.

“You leave me the hell out of this!” his Uncle laughed and offered him the last couple sips of his beer. “Ready to actually work?” It was disturbing to see what a pro sweet little Charlie was at getting every last drop out of that bottle.

He handed the bottle back to Scott and took the peas off his eye. It looked a bit better now and he could almost see out of it. “Yeah, I think so. I don’t feel so dizzy now.”

“If you have a concussion your parents will kill me…” Scott groaned and nudged Max off his foot as he stood up.

“I’m _fine_ Uncle Scott! I swear!” Chuck whined following him back out into the thankfully abating heat.

Things went a lot better now. Chuck was back to his normal chatty and much more helpful self. In no time at all they had replaced the trucks drive belt, thanks mostly to Chuck’s ability to contort himself into weird angles and smaller hands. Scott wasn’t _that_ old but he was too damn old to be upside down between the engine and the compressor. Sometimes not working on a lift was a drag.

Once everything was re-secured and all of Charlie’s limbs were out of the danger zone, Scott started the engine. The truck turned right over-a very good sign- and more importantly they were noise free. Chuck was wiping the grease off his hands and his knees and for some reason he couldn’t explain off the back of his right calf.

“I think we got it Charlie boy,” Scott smiled slapping him on the back.

Chuck grunted under the impact. “Good. I’m getting hungry.” He wrinkled his nose at the smell of burning rubber, “Is that normal?”

“Yeah, it’s just working in. We’ll let her run for a few minutes and get everything warmed up. You staying for dinner?” Scott asked like he didn’t know the kid was gonna put off going home as long as possible.

“Can I?” Chuck was hoping for such an invitation. He did not relish having to explain his eye to his Father; it would be so much easier to sneak in later in the evening when Herc would no doubt be passed out in his chair in front of the TV.

Scott ruffled his hair, “You got it partner. Just let your Mom know ok? I don’t need my ass reamed again.” He left the engine running and headed back towards the house. He thought he might have a couple steaks left in the freezer that should be enough to feed the two of them and that tub of a dog. Scott was trying to come up with a vegetable, cause growing kids needed their veggies right- that’s what Angela would say anyway- when it started again.

He came to a dead stop, one foot on the step up to the porch as it started softly but gained quickly in pitch.

The whine was back.

“Oh son of a bitch!” he squawked. “No no no no no!”

Chuck turned to him and deadpanned, “I told you it was the timing chain.”

Uncle Scott snarled something unintelligible and lunged at him. Chuck easily evaded him and took off running, laughing hysterically the whole time. All that freaking work for nothing! Scott was fuming as he yanked the keys from the ignition and threw them after Chuck. God damn everything ever! And of _course_ it was getting too dark to do any further work tonight.

His life just wasn’t fair. He would have to live with the noise for another whole week until his next day off. Scott sighed like his heart might break and then looked up to see Chuck grinning at him. Stupid boy came back in range- rookie mistake. Scott grinned back at him then lunged, sending Charlie squealing away. Uncle Scott pursed him through the yard eventually managing to tackle him while he protested loudly that he played soccer _not_ rugby!

The truck didn’t matter, he would figure out what was wrong with it- eventually. It never really was about the truck for him, it was about family. And as Scott chased his nephew around the yard while Max yapped insanely from the safety of the deck, he totally forgot about the screeching timing chain. It wasn’t important right now.

Tomorrow when he drove to work it would be another story. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Some of the best times spent with my Father was being his little helper during projects. We built two bridges and three decks on our property and spent endless hours maintaining our barn (cause horses are DESTRUCTIVE). Time spent working on a car was different and even more special, and while Daddy was a builder his mechanical stuff was the basics. Which he passed on to me (I can change oil, tires, transmission fluids and brake pads...lol) but I learned the the super advanced principles at the elbows of my beloved 'uncles' in the shop. I often got drafted into service cause of my much smaller hands and my lack of fear climbing in weird places. I wouldn't trade those hours spent with them for anything. My knowledge of advanced mechanics and swear word vocabulary are unparallelled thanks to all of them! <3 :P
> 
> I also just love writing stories with Scott in them. He can represent so many people I have loved in my life. <3


End file.
